One day I’ll stop watching Poirot reruns and start organizing.
I will tame the chaos after finally putting to use hours of reading “how to declutter” posts.
I will give my closets the professional organizer treatment and end up with a curated wardrobe of classical pieces.
I will stop buying every piece of vintage luggage that crosses my path because I will not need the extra storage space anymore.
I will keep only what is necessary.
And will try to convince myself that minimalism is sexy.
I will stop trying to keep all the things my granddad used to collect.
And after I have managed to strip my life off all the frivolity , I will finally have the time to read all the books lying around.
I have never crossed any item of this to do list. Either because I’m too lazy or too busy procrastinating.
Or because I can’t force my maximalist nature to become something else and pretend I don’t find beauty in the poetry of everyday chaos.
The Poetry of List-Making